


Victor et Victus

by rhysgore



Series: FKM Fills [2]
Category: Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: Bondage, Gags, M/M, Minor Character Death, Size Kink, Virginity Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-08
Updated: 2016-03-08
Packaged: 2018-05-25 11:11:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6192763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rhysgore/pseuds/rhysgore
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Legion allows victorious warriors to claim prisoners of war as their own after battles. Lanius claims the Courier.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Victor et Victus

**Author's Note:**

> this is a fill written for a somewhat old fkm prompt but one that i had the urge to fill nonetheless. i'm sorry jesus.
> 
> note that this is hard noncon and also contains a reference to bestiality (although no actual bestiality)

“Is this all of them?”

The recruit legionary studied the clipboard he was holding, a paper with a long list of names, and boxes with checkmarks next to them. His hands trembled.

“Y-yes, legate,” he said, trying and failing to keep the tremor out of his voice. He may have just survived the second battle for Hoover Dam, free of major injuries to boot, but he knew enough to recognize the man standing next to him as more dangerous than anything or anyone he had faced at the dam. “All of them accounted for.”

“Good.” 

Lanius stood tall, surveying the men and women kneeling and bound before him. Rows and rows of them, silent, stony-faced NCR prisoners of war. His hands were on his waist, armor gleaming gold and blood-spattered in the dying sunlight. A conqueror, beholding his conquered. 

“Where is the Courier?” He asked, still scanning the rows of angry, defiant, or scared faces. The recruit coughed, flipping through his papers.

“Uh, he’s… still in the medical tent. Caesar thought you would want him, and in better condition than you left him.” 

Beneath his helmet, Lanius allowed himself a thin smile, remembering the howl of pain from the young man as his leg was pinned to the Dam by Lanius’ blade, and the crunch his femur made when it was broken by an armored boot. Courier, stealthy and silver tongued, had always preferred pacifism over combat, and his inability to defend himself had been his downfall in the end. And now…

“I want him in my tent when he awakes. Bound, hands and feet both, lest he escape us again. Do not doubt for a second that he is still capable of doing such.”

The recruit nodded, but glanced down at his papers and at the rows of people again.

“Will that be… _all,_ legate?” He asked, more curious than anything.

“Yes. That will be all,” Lanius replied, already marching away.

*

Courier woke to pain, everywhere. His broken leg was still on fire with agony and his body was a mess of bruises and cuts from the battle for the Dam. That was the pain he recognized, plenty horrible enough on its own, but there were new sensations his mind had yet to register. His hands and feet were throbbing, because of the ropes wrapped tightly around his wrists and ankles, and his neck…

Oh _no._ Courier’s eyes shot open, and the entire world was a mess of blurriness and piercing light, overloading his senses and making him cry out. Everything hurt. Everything.

A minute passed, and Courier slowly blinked, wincing as he allowed sunlight to permeate his vision bit by bit. Slowly, the scene in front of him swam into focus, and as the pain lessened to something bearable, Courier’s dread grew greater and greater.

He was in a tent, tied to a pole. That alone was bad enough- only the Legion called places like this home, and only high ranking legionaries had tents as… _nice_ as the one he currently found himself in. On top of that, firmly fixed around his neck, tight enough to be uncomfortable but not to constrict breathing, was an object all too familiar to him- a leather slave collar. 

He had failed at the Dam- the injuries in his leg were testament enough- and it was becoming more and more obvious that the scale of the failure was much, much larger. And all he could do now was sit back, try to not give in to his pain, and wait to see which legionary now had the pleasure of being his keeper.

“Fuck,” Courier mumbled to himself, lips cracked and dry from misuse. How long had he been unconscious? A day? A week? More?

“FUCK,” he said, louder, just because he could.

“Ah. You are awake.” Oh shit, oh shit, oh _shit._ Courier could feel the blood drain from his face at the sound of the voice that he would have recognized anywhere. Lanius, the legate, the huge, brutish, sword-wielding monster who had stabbed him and shattered his leg, entering the tent via the cloth flap that served as a door.

Just his fucking luck.

“I was not particularly worried about you regaining consciousness. Despite what your stature and combat abilities may suggest, you are rather _resilient.”_ Lanius’ tone was even, conversational, as if he wasn't speaking to a man he had recently tried to cut the head off of. He crossed the room, and began removing parts of his armor, gauntlets, gloves, wrist guards.

“What happened?” Courier croaked out hoarsely, watching with trepidation as Lanius unbuckled his breastplate. “What am I doing here?”

“The NCR failed to hold the Dam.” That much Courier had been expecting, although hearing it said out loud was like a punch to the gut. “It is not entirely your fault. Although your intervention did prove to be a failure, the troops of the NCR were weak, and poorly lead. The late General Oliver is far more to blame than you are for this outcome.”

So, Oliver was dead. In that case…

“Kimball?” He asked, not truly wanting to know, but needing closure. Lanius paused.

“He may be dead, or he may not be. His body hangs on a cross outside of the Strip, so that all may see it as Legion forces pacify the city.” The legate’s voice was smug. Courier wouldn't have been surprised if he himself had done the crucifying.

“What about…” he squeezed his eyes shut, trying to calm himself. “What happened to my friends?”

“They are not all accounted for yet. Some of them have fled. Some are being tracked at this moment. Do not worry; I will not miss the opportunity to inform you of their deaths.”

Courier allowed himself to feel a small glimmer of hope. His friends… they were safe, at least for now. Probably scared, hurt, worried about themselves and about him, but _not dead._ Not yet. 

“And I’m… what? Did you want to gloat before you killed me? Kick me around a little? Because you might as well just do it now, or I’ll find some way to get out. Broken leg or not.” 

Lanius slid his breastplate off, sat down on the bed to undo his boots. The sight of him in a simple shirt and terrifying helmet was almost comical. Courier might have laughed if he didn't think it would result in his tongue being ripped out. Even without the armor, Lanius’ chest and arms were intimidating, large and muscular. He was big, far bigger than Courier, a tall, broad, giant of a man. Courier had always been small and slight, and his injuries had done nothing to assist him in those respects.

“Is that what you thought? I assumed you were more intelligent than that…” Lanius mused, placing his boots neatly by the foot of the bed, starting on his leg guards. “No, I do not intend to kill you. Like Kimball, you are of much greater value alive, to be made an example of. In addition to that, it would be unwise of me to simply discard a hard-earned wartime trophy.”

Maybe it was the pain he was in, maybe it was the overwhelming emotional trauma he had already been through, but it took a minute for everything to click into place for Courier. Make an example of. Wartime trophy. _The collar._

“No,” he whispered. “No. I’m not your _slave._ I’m not your… your _prize,_ you sick _asshole.”_ Courier swore he heard the giant _laugh_ as he said that, a deep, ominous chuckle.

“The situation you find yourself in would suggest otherwise, Courier.” The leg guards joined the neat pile of armor on the ground, and Lanius stood up once more, unbuckling his skirt. “That is exactly what you are. After every successful conquest, the Legion allows the warriors responsible for victory free choice of prisoners of war to take as their own. For my victory at the Dam, I could have claimed hundreds. I chose only you.” His belt was gone. Metal pleats slid down his legs. All that was underneath the skirt was a pair of undershorts. “You should feel flattered.”

Even with his vision blurry and panic spiking through him, Courier could see the tent in Lanius’ shorts. It would have been hard to miss. His breath grew shallow and raspy, eyes widening, and he struggled against the ropes holding him in place.

“No, no, _no.”_ The word was like a mantra. No, _no,_ this wasn't how it was supposed to go. Defeat for him should have meant death, by execution or slow crucifixion, not indefinite imprisonment as a conqueror's sex slave.

Lanius approached him holding a knife, tiny in comparison to him. 

“DON’T COME NEAR ME,” Courier yelled, thrashing uselessly. 

“Be quiet,” Lanius replied, the barest edge of a threat in his voice. He gripped Courier’s right arm in one massive hand, wrenching his shoulders apart with ease, and cut the rope that held his shackled arms to the tent pole with ease. “I do like that you fight, however. It will make it all the more enjoyable to see you break.” 

Courier struggled, but his hands were still tied, and the iron grip around his bicep remained firm. Lanius cut the rope holding his ankles together and pulled him to a semblance of standing, giving him no choice but to lean against the larger man or collapse as he was dragged towards the bed. Sitting down on the edge, Lanius tugged Courier into his lap so his ass was pressed against the bulge in his undershorts. If Courier had thought it was dangerously big just looking at it, feeling it was a different matter altogether. He resisted, writhing and twisting, trying to get any sort of leverage, trying to _get away,_ but to his horror, all he seemed to be succeeding in doing was arousing Lanius further.

“N-no,” he whimpered, “you don't understand. I haven't… I’ve never…” He heard ripping as Lanius cut away his clothes, tearing through them like butter until he was left naked save for the bandages on his leg. “You'll tear me apart, please, oh god, _don't do this.”_

“Hmm?” The giant trailed a rough finger up Courier’s side, making him shiver and tremble. “You’ve never been fucked by a man before?”

The blunt phrasing made Courier shudder. It more than anything cemented the fact in his mind that this was about to happen, that a man easily twice his size was about to rape him into submission.

“No, Jesus, don't fucking _touch me.”_ Even with bound wrists, Courier made a valiant effort to slap Lanius’ exploratory touches away. Lanius ignored him, gripping his hips firmly, forcing the smaller man to rub against him. “Get off, get-” he was cut off by two long, thick fingers being forced into his mouth. They went deep, deep into his throat, and Courier had focus to not choke on them.

 _“Quiet.”_ There was a ripping noise, and the fingers were replaced by a strip of cloth gagging him instead. “You are a virgin.” It wasn't a question. Hands felt up and down his waist, his hips, coming to rest on his thighs, stilling Courier’s attempts to kick with ease. “I would have assumed you were fucking that NCR man, the sniper.” One hand left Courier’s leg for a moment as Lanius searched for something. “If you ever find yourself missing his company, tell me. I will speak with Antony, our beastmaster. I am sure he has a feral dog he would be happy to let you bed.”

Lanius chuckled again, the deep baritone of his voice making a gesture of amusement seem deadly as he poured oil of some sort onto his fingers. Courier swore at him, but all that came out were nonsensical half-words held back by his gag, which stopped altogether when without preamble, Lanius pushed a slick finger to the third knuckle into him.

“I do want to break you, but since I would prefer to get more than one use out of your body, I will take your virginity into account,” he murmured, pulling and pushing the digit as he did so. It was invasive and alien, and made all the worse by the fact that before that moment, the only things Courier had put into himself were his own, much smaller fingers. He wasn't going to be able to handle anything as large as what he could feel underneath him, no matter how much Lanius saw fit to prepare him. “You should be grateful for this mercy. You feel so _tight._ I would much rather have you now. This is for your benefit.”

 _Sure, I’m a prisoner of war-turned-slave about to be fucked against my will, but at least I won't completely rip in half when you shove your cock in me,_ he managed to think sarcastically, wincing at the intrusion. His own cock rested between his legs, flaccid with disinterest, even as Lanius’ fingers (two of them now, long and unyielding) brushed a spot inside him that made him twitch involuntarily.

“Ah.” A single, smug syllable accompanied by Lanius paying his prostate more attention, pressing it roughly. The stimulation caused heat to build in Courier’s stomach, left him writhing and gasping against his will, and coaxed him stubbornly to semi-hardness. Cursing through his gag, Courier tried to turn his head away from his own arousal, turning scarlet in humiliation.

Lanius breathed heavily, right into his ear, clearly enjoying Courier’s involuntary reaction as he continued to work. He was up to three now, drinking in the tiny noises his amusing toy made as he was stretched open.

“Enjoying this?” He asked, mockingly. Courier shook his head back and forth rapidly. The ropes around his wrists were constricting the blood flow to his hands- he could feel his fingers going numb. “You feel loose enough.” 

That was all the warning Courier got. Lanius withdrew his fingers, pulled himself out of his undershorts, and grabbed the other man by the legs, spreading them and lifting and positioning his small body as if he were a doll. Slowly, he was pulled down, and Lanius’ cock entered him bit by bit, massive and unyielding. It hurt, even after the preparation it still hurt. Courier had already been impaled once by Lanius, and the second time was only slightly less painful than the first.

Before he knew it, Lanius was fully sheathed inside him and Courier felt impossibly full. His body was limp and trembling, the feeling of being stretched far beyond his limits taking up all his mental capacities. The other man was simply too _big_ for him, and even as Courier frantically tried to relax his muscles he felt himself clamping down tighter around Lanius, his body trying its damndest to reject the unwanted intruder.

The legate groaned, grasping Courier’s thighs hard enough to leave bloody gouges in the intact one, and to get the broken one hurting again, and pain washed through Courier’s body like a tidal wave. He tried to keep himself from screaming as Lanius began lifting him up and slamming him back down with incredible brutality, and he swore he could feel his stomach bulging out with every merciless thrust.

“You were well worth sacrificing my other tributes for,” Lanius said, voice only barely straining with the effort of fucking. “I worked so thoroughly to prepare you, and _still_ you are this tight.” Courier squeezed his eyes shut, feeling tears prickling at their corners. Had his hands not been immobilized, he would have covered up his ears as well. “We take so few virgins as war prisoners, and the fact that you are-” he paused, considered, _“-were_ among our greatest enemies, well... you are a _prize.”_

He gave Courier’s cock a few strokes, but even with the stimulation inside and out, it had long turned flaccid. The extra attention made Courier flush even deeper, humiliated and pained in equal amounts. When Lanius gave up on lifting him and resorted to a simple, unrelenting snapping of his hips, Courier couldn’t contain his tears anymore. They rolled down his face, onto his bare chest, and his entire body was wracked with sobs, something that Lanius did not fail to notice.

“It is a good thing you did not cast your allegiance with us. Caesar would be disgraced by one as weak as you fighting alongside us. You will not fight head-on, you cannot handle the pain of defeat- you would have made a poor legionary,” he rumbled. “But even you have use to the Legion in other ways, it seems.” Courier’s head dipped to his chest and he gave a muffled sound of despair, unable to keep it in any longer. Suddenly, he felt Lanius’ hand on his face, ripping off his gag in one efficient motion.

_“Scream.”_

Courier obliged, wailing in anguish as Lanius dug strong fingers into his broken leg once again. He howled, agonized, and Lanius joined in with a snarl as he gave two more sharp thrusts and came inside. He held them both in place, cock twitching inside Courier as the other man shook and cried, unable to articulate yet. 

He felt cum leaking out of him, likely mixed with blood given how completely beat up he felt. He had been used, his body ruined, and barring a miracle, it was going to keep happening. Again and again, until one of them died, or Lanius got tired of him.

The thought made him cry even harder.

With a sound of disgust, Lanius shoved him off of his lap, leaving Courier to sprawl on the floor. His erection was diminishing, and the look of thin shirt, terrifying mask, and soft cock would have been ridiculous if it had been on anyone else.

“Pathetic,” the man sneered, kicking Courier’s legs open to look at him. “Even the women endure better than you.” Courier weakly attempted to turn over into the fetal position, but was stopped by Lanius stepping on his ankle, hard.

“You’re a monster,” he whimpered, not caring about how undignified it sound. He had no dignity left. Lanius had seen to that. _“Fuck_ you.”

“You have,” Lanius said, turning around to put his armor again, as if nothing had happened. “And you will.”


End file.
